Sur La Table
by avintagekiss24
Summary: It's Valentine's Day, and through some gentle nudging from Morgan and Maggie, Rick and Michonne are set up on a blind date.


Happy Valentine's Day! I meant to post this a little earlier, but there's still some time yet! This was based off a prompt from the Richonne Writing Network. I hope you enjoy!

* * *

Michonne sits in her office, tapping away at her computer, her eyes glancing between her hand written notes and the word document in front of her. She's been trying to finish this article all day, but between her two day interview, meetings, and two impromptu calls with the magazine edit, she's incredibly behind. Jadis Monroe, the owner of their publication is… erratic, at best, and will be in town by the end of the week to personally critique this upcoming issue. Everything has to be perfect, and Michonne wants to make (another) great impression. She's on the cusp of a promotion to editor, and honestly believes that if she can nail this assignment, it'll all fall into place. If she can just get an hours' worth of piece and-

"Michonne? You busy?"

Maggie's chipper voice fills her office through the speaker on her desk phone. Michonne groans as her fingers top tapping and throws her head back on her chair. She reaches out with her arm and hits the intercom button, "Yes. No calls Mags."

She sits back up and starts to type again, when, "This isn't a call. I need to talk to you."

Michonne groans again, "Right this second? I'm in the middle of writing this article."

"You can take two minutes, can't ya?"

"No!" She calls out loudly, nearly shrieking, "I just finished interviewing _the_ Chris Evans, _the _Sebastian Stan, and _the _Chadwick Boseman for the past two days. I need to get this down while it's still on my fresh on my brain. I'll come talk to you when I break for lunch."

She glances out of the glass panels that enclose her office to stare at the back of her assistants head. She can practically hear Maggie clicking her teeth and see her rolling her eyes with nothing but attitude. When she doesn't receive a reply, she gets back to typing furiously, flipping through her scribbled notes and playing back certain parts of the interview from her phone. She hones in on her work as the city of Los Angeles moves behind her. Before she knows it, the clock strikes one.

An eager and anxious Maggie Greene bursts into her office, her purse hanging from her elbow, "It's lunchtime!" She sings, with a wide smile on her face.

Michonne can't help but laugh, throwing her hands up before saving her document and closing her laptop. The two make their way down to the streets of LA, making small talk as they roll into their favorite restaurant. The small girl plants them out on the patio and hands over their menus and disappears again to usher the next group to an open table.

"Okay, so what is so important?" Michonne asks a few minutes later, squeezing a wedge of lemon into her water.

"Oh, right!" Maggie turns and digs in her purse, pulling out her yellow iPhone, "You remember that guy I was trying to set you up with? Rick?"

Michonne rolls her eyes playfully, "Yes. The guy from Atlanta, with the kid."

"Why are you doing that? Don't roll your eyes at me!" Michonne waves her hand in the air, expressing to Maggie to get to the point, "Well, lucky for you, he's willing to meet up again after you bailed on him."

"Bailed on him? One, I had to work, thank you, and two, he bailed on me first when we were supposed to go to that museum."

"You were sitting at home, in your pajamas, watching Shark Tank. Since when does that qualify as work?" Maggie asks, sipping on her iced tea and giving Michonne a squint.

Michonne shrugs, flicking her hand at her as she glances toward the street, "I don't want to date right now Maggie. I told you that."

"It's just casual! No one is asking you to marry him."

"I realize that. I just really want to get this promotion, then once I do, maybe I'll think about it."

Maggie shakes his head, pursing her lips as she closes her eyes dramatically, "Not gonna cut it. Sorry!" She scrolls through her phone, landing on a picture and turns it toward her, "How can you say no to that? He is so gorgeous!"

Michonne takes her phone, looking at the picture before her. He is cute, she'll give him that. He looks like he oozes that southern charm that girls seem to be crazy about, and he looks pretty damn good in a suit. His salt and pepper hair is long, and curls at the ends behind his ears. His eyes are a piercing blue, his chin hidden under a nicely groomed, short beard. She can tell his body is toned underneath that slim fit suit. He is cute, she'll give him that.

She hands her friend back her phone and tucks her hands underneath the table, "Why did he move to LA again?"

"Business, of course. He only runs one of the most successful real estate companies in the country. You peeped that Rolex, right?"

Michonne throws her eyes toward the ceiling as another smile graces her face, "I don't care about that shit. What's your plan? Just get at it already."

"Okay, so, how about a cooking class on Valentine's day. Sur La Table is hosting an exclusive, extremely limited class at seven that night. You'll make an appetizer salad, the main course, and a dessert, and you're welcome to all the free wine and champagne you can stand."

Michonne tosses his head from side to side lightly, pulling her lips down at the corners as she mulls it over, "On Valentine's day?"

"Yep. Seventy nine bucks a seat with a world renowned chef and a cute guy with money. Who turns that shit down?"

Michonne chuckles again, shaking her head at her dark haired friend, knowing that if she doesn't accept, she'll never stop, "Alright, alright, fine. It's a date."

"You cannot cancel, you hear me? I had to pull some strings to even find out about this class."

"I won't, I promise."

Maggie smiles widely, clicking over to Morgan's name and sending a simple thumbs up emoji, "This is going to be so great, I promise."

"Yeah," Michonne starts, sitting back as their salads are delivered, "I remember that last time you set me up. He turned out to be a freakin' fugitive on the run."

"You wanted a bad boy, I gave you a bad boy. Stop complaining."

* * *

"Are you there yet?" Maggie's voice floats into Michonne's ear as she pushes through the front door of Sur La Table.

"I am, just walked in. This place is nice as hell."

"You don't have to tell me it's nice with all the damn hoops I had to jump to get you in there. Listen, just have fun, okay? You aren't getting married here."

Michonne scoffs a little as she signs in, "Shut up. I'll text you later, okay? Smooches."

"Love you. Have fun!"

Michonne slips her phone into her pocket as follows behind the blonde as she escorts her back toward to preset cooking stations. Michonne and Ricks' names are written out in cursive on a placard at one of the stations in back. She thanks the waitress and shrugs out of her light coat, going straight for the bottle of wine sitting in the middle of the two broilers. She pours herself a glass and takes a sip while reading over the small brochure perched at every station. She's early, but the room soon starts to fill with other class guests, all chatty and giggly and happy to be out on Valentine's day night. Most look to be couples as Michonne glances around, watching them as they hug and make idle small talk with the groups around them. Michonne checks her watch and scratches the back of her neck. She's going to kill Maggie if this guy doesn't show. There is nothing worse than being stood up on Valentines day.

She another long sip of her red wine, peering over the rim of the glass as her eyes dart around buzzing room. Just then, a dapper man pushes through the front door, running his hands through his hair as he signs in at the small clipboard. Michonne gulps down her wine and starts to pour another glass as she swallows quickly. He looks even better in person! How in the hell does that happen? He's dressed in navy blue fitted suit, with a white pocket square and a black bow tie. His hair is slicked back, a few strands falling into his face as he moves toward her. She throws a smile on her face as he approaches and pours a glass for him, before outstretching her hand toward him as he approaches.

Rick flashes a killer smile himself as he takes her much smaller hand in his, "I'm sorry I'm late. You must be Michonne."

"Oh, it's no problem. You're right on time actually. Would you like glass?" She motions toward the wine, "It's delicious."

"Please. Nothing helps with dealing with a teenager than alcohol."

Michonne laughs, still eyeing him quickly as he steps around the station and joins her at her side, "Oh no. Boy or girl?"

"Boy, surprisingly. He turned seventeen earlier last month and my God, has he been insufferable." She laughs again and he can't help but smile. He likes making her laugh, "Enough about me. What's going on with you? How was your day?"

They both put on their aprons, slipping it over their heads and tying it securely behind their backs, "It was pretty great actually. I found out I got the promotion I've been eying for a while now, so, I can't complain."

"Wow. Congratulations. That's awesome news."

"Thank you. It's definitely better than dealing with a cranky teenager."

Rick clinks his wine glass with hers and throws a wink toward her, "Excellent point."

They both turn their attention toward the front as the guest chef/teacher announces herself. After going around the room and introducing themselves, they're off the races on preparing their Roasted Pear and Arugula Salad with Pomegranate Vinaigrette. Michonne's shrieks softly, then erupts into a fit of giggles as she tries and fails to glaze her Pear with her handheld Chef's torch. Rick watches on, a smile plastered to his face all the while as he falls a little deeper into her wild laughter. He slides behind her, leaning slightly over her shoulder to ask for permission to help, "May I?"

"Please." She answers through her laughter, "I'm dying here."

He takes her hand in his, looping his finger around hers across the trigger helps her roast her pear. She continues to laugh but lets his hands guide her from behind as he presses his chest against her back ever so slightly. She's not minding being here, all of sudden. Rick takes in a deep breath of her sweet perfume and lets it mix with the wine he's ingesting, becoming slightly intoxicated off of his beautiful date. After successfully getting her pears roasted, they move on to chopping up the arugula and tossing the greens with a light olive oil. Their small talk continues, getting into work and then their personal lives as they munch on their salads and continue to go through their wine.

"You know," Michonne starts, loosening up by the minute, no thanks to the booze and the hilarity of the Chef's torch, "I've never had a roasted pear before. They are quite tasty." She laments as she continues munching on her salad.

"I have to admit, I've had roasted pear before, but I've never thought it could be this fun watching someone actually roast it."

She bursts out in laughter before, giving him a high five, "I killed that whole roasting challenge. I was _so_ good at it." Rick starts to laugh, "I mean it. You probably should keep that to yourself and not tell anyone. It might make them insecure about their own roasting abilities."

Their mini break ends and they move on to their main course, a Tuscan New York strip with Chocolate Cabernet Sauvignon Sauce. Rick tries to pay attention to the Chef as she moves around, spouting out directions and stopping to give mini demonstrations so that everyone understands, but he can't keep his eyes off of woman beside him. He's never been into blind dates before, so when Morgan brought it a few months back, he completed resisted. He agreed to meet her after a while of ribbing, just to get Morgan off his back, but came up with an excuse last minute to avoid the entire situation. But, damn does he regret it now that he's finally met her. He throws a little salt and pepper on his steak before stealing another glance over at her. She's dressed simply, but still oozes a sophisticated elegance. She's in a thin, black, long sleeve shirt, that's tucked into a black, leather knee length skirt. Random pieces of jewelry sparkle under the head lamps; a simple diamond necklace, two diamond studs in each ear, and a platinum watch on her left wrist.

His eyes drop to her hips, lingering on that perky behind for a moment, then down her shapely legs to spot the tennis anklet around her ankle. Her hair is pulled into a loose ponytail, a few strands left loose to frame her angular face. She a classic beauty, with all the brains to boot.

"That steak looks perfect, great job Mr. Grimes." The chef smiles as she steps by, taking a peak at their dishes, "Keep stirring that sauce nice and slow, Ms. Davis. Just like that, that's perfect. Just perfect." She coos, flashing another smile before she moves to the next couple.

"Will do." Michonne calls as she moves away, "You've done this before, obviously." She bumps her shoulder into his playfully.

Rick shrugs lightly, a smirk on his face as he cuts his eyes toward her, "I like to cook, what can I say."

Michonne's mouth drops open as she turns to face him, "You like to cook? Wow, how are you still single?" Rick starts to laugh once more, "Seriously, I'm the worst cook."

"Oh stop, you're keeping up just fine."

"Yeah, cuz you're here and I have a five star chef watching over me. If I was at home, I would have burnt my condo to the ground by now." She shakes her head as she laughs at herself and drops her eyes back down to her sauce.

She can feel his eyes on her and in moments like this, she's glad she doesn't blush. She flicks her eyes toward him, catching his gaze but drops her eyes again sheepishly, giggling all the while. They sear their steaks, then add in the deep red Sauvignon Chocolate sauce, letting cook for only a few minutes before their plate their creations. The class takes another small break in order to enjoy their meal. Rick and Michonne are given another bottle of wine as they've finished off their first, and continue their small talk as they eat slowly, learning little details about each other. They're both entranced in each others presence, excited and honestly interested in each others backgrounds and life. They stand closely to one another as they move on to the finale, Chocolate Souffle with Espresso Crème Anglaise. Their arms touch as they stir and add miscellaneous ingredients to their shared pot. Their hips bump, their fingers graze along each others as they hand each other utensils, they hold each other's gaze, letting their eyes linger on one another for long moments.

They lean over the table, resting their weight on their elbows as they finally tear into chocolatey dessert. They don't talk much this time though, they just chew slowly and let their eyes move around the other, etching each line or wrinkle, each perfection and imperfection into their minds. The class comes to an end a few hours after it began. They filter out onto the streets of LA, most couples hand in hand, or arms tucked around their wastes as the move into the night. Michonne throws her small black leather purse over her shoulder and moves slowly beside Rick as the warm night air washes over her. He walks her to her car, his hands in his pockets, his eyes toward the ground as they laugh lightly.

"Well, this is me." She sighs a little as she steps next to her silver Lexus, "I had a great time, Rick."

"Me too. You are a delight Ms. Davis." He watches her closely as she bows her head then glances off into the distance, her eyes twinkling under the moonlight, a soft smile on her face, "Would you um, would you like to do it again? Maybe dinner and a movie next time, or something?"

She thought he'd never ask. She bites her bottom lip and nods, batting her eyes at him, "I'd love that."

"Great."

They exchange numbers quickly, promising to contact each other within the next few days before leaving each other with a soft hug. He helps her into her car, shutting the door behind her and raises his hand in a wave as she pulls away from the car and disappears around the corner. He shoves his hands back in his pockets as he moves slowly toward the parking garage, unable to help the small smile on his face. He'll have to listen to Morgan a little more often from now on.


End file.
